Seeing Jackson Pollock at The Museum of Modern Art in Late August

He could have used cake on the canvas
Flaking, falling, dyed and enhanced cake mixes.
To celebrate a post-war world, one must use the confetti’s 
And Betty Crocker birthday boxes.
One must move away from the classics.

When we were finished 
We walked across the street to a silver cart serving
Chopped chicken and lamb over iceberg and rice. 
Add white. Add red.

When we were finished 
We walked across the street to another silver cart:
A trailer, selling soft serve ice cream dipped 
In an assortment of rich reds,
Earth colored browns, and stark blacks.

We could have stayed an extra day
Up there on the east side of Manhattan, walking, 
Skipping subway stops, 
Watching black, flocking starlings 
Fly by the buildings while we ate soft ice cream, 
Already melting, dripping onto the concrete


Per our earlier
I'll keep the kids,
You keep the cars.
"And you can keep the…"
You start to say something very ugly.

On a day, years from this one, 
You'll see
The rock wasn't too loud
The nervous movement in my legs
Wasn't worth this hassle.

And being the former friend
For a very long time
Became a very bad choice.

Per our previous et al:
You keep the remnants of diet iced soda on your lips
I'll keep the kids
And the accompanying laughter
That, on weekdays, you'll long
To hear.


Tonight, I halved a lime, and my kitchen became summer:

There are 15 pounds of carne asada to be grilled, cut, and laid flat onto corn tortillas. Out in the cooler there are tall, 500 ml bottles of imported coca-cola. On the lawn lay chairs and pairs of shoes. Very good friends are laughing. They take pictures, throw bean bags. It is warm, but cool close to where the shade slides down off of the branches and onto the lawn. The air is alive.

All it took was one half lime.